


Under the Clouds

by An_Odd_Idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gen, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-apocalyptic AU, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark acting as Peter Parker’s parental figure, afraid to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Odd_Idea/pseuds/An_Odd_Idea
Summary: Comfortember prompt 6: Afraid to sleepComfortember prompt 24: Panic attacksTwo loosely connected oneshots as Peter and Tony survive together during the end of the world
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 52
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. These are somewhat inspired by a fantastically depressing movie called The Road, where a man and his son make their way across a vaguely-destroyed wasteland? Yes.
> 
> This first chapter is just prompt 6 and is honestly pretty fluffy. Anything to do with panic attacks is all in the second one.

Tony didn’t like the stars. Not since New York. They were too cold, too distant as they filled his vision, and then he felt like he was falling all over again.

Ironically, New York had ended well. The worse danger had come from the earth itself.

He and Peter had been in LA when it happened. They had escaped the worst of the destruction there, but now they were on their own, journeying along what had once been an interstate highway, back toward New York. Tony wasn’t sure what they would find when they got there, if they got there, but he always told Peter May would be waiting for him. Peter always told him Pepper was waiting, and they pushed on.

That was why Tony was lying outdoors under a blanket, staring up at the night sky through the trees as he usually hated to do, and as he had done for the past... who knew how long. He hadn’t seen a single star in ages, with all the smog in the air, and to be honest he was almost starting to miss them. The sky was the same oppressively low-hanging gray at all hours whether day or night.

“We’re not safe here,” Peter fretted, rolled up in the other blanket at Tony’s side.

“The usual, or is something coming?”

“I don’t know.” Peter’s voice pitched up slightly at the end, a reminder of how young he really was. “My senses are all messed up again.”

Peter’s danger-sense had completely overloaded a few weeks after everything fell apart, and it had never been the same since. After the narrow escape they’d just had, it was likely to be going a bit haywire again. That, or they’d been followed.

“Can we take turns looking out again?” Peter asked. That was what they’d done in the beginning, until they had both become so perpetually exhausted that a few more hours of sleep seemed worth the danger.

That was before the danger had thrown itself right in their faces, breathed down their necks, trapped them with almost no hope of escape. Tony would never forget what he’d thought of then, what he’d considered doing to spare Peter from something worse. Peter didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to tell him.

“I’ll stay up.”

“And then me?”

“I don’t think I can sleep anyway, kid.”

“Me either.”

“Well that’s no good,” said Tony, falling back into the light tone he might have used if they were safe at home and he was about to offer a movie and a snuggle on the couch.

“My senses are just really freaking out.”

“I know.” Tony’s heart felt heavy, because there was nothing he could do to fix it, only tiny things he could do to make it slightly more bearable. “Here, it’s cold.” He spread his own blanket over the both of them and moved closer. “That’s better.”

Peter didn’t say anything, but he pressed their shoulders together and let out a quiet breath.

“Try to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Just try.”

Peter lay still next to him, staring forlornly up at the dark gray sky. He wasn’t really looking at the sky at all, Tony knew, just thinking and thinking and thinking while his mind went around in circles and his danger sense clamored in his head.

“Close your eyes. I’ll draw you a picture.”

Peter closed his eyes and nudged just a bit closer to Tony.

“Do you remember when you and your friends built a blanket fort in my living room?”

His eyes still closed, Peter smiled.

“Well when we get home, we’re going to build an even bigger one. We’ll borrow all the pillows from your couch too, those are good pillows, and we’ll drag in Pepper’s awful dining room chairs—you know the ones I’m talking about—to make the ceiling higher for old men like me. Then we’ll cover the whole room with every blanket we have, except the giant fuzzy one you had when May was out of town and you got the flu. That one goes in the fort so we can wrap up in it.”

Tony looked over to be sure Peter was still listening, and was pleased to see his almost relaxed expression.

“Of course we’ll need help building a fort that big,” he went on. “We’ll be sure it’s a day May has off, and you can call your friends, and I’ll call Rhodey and Pepper. Maybe Happy’ll loosen up and join us, too.”

He paused to see if that might get a chuckle, but Peter was quiet.

“There’s no reason we can’t have the tv as part of our fort, and we can all watch a movie. I’ll make popcorn, the good kind like you get at the theater that’s bright yellow for some reason, and we can have hot chocolate. Maybe we’ll want something else if it’s warm in our fort, but right now I’m thinking hot chocolate.” 

Tony looked up at the sky again, and the dreary clouds pulled him briefly out of the picture and back into reality. He fought to get back to it, just a few more moments of something safe and familiar and _good_. “Of course we wouldn’t have to watch a movie, if we can’t get the tv running. We could always just build a fort and eat popcorn all together like that.”

He paused, his chest tightening as he imagined the scene, and something in the sky caught his attention again. A break in the clouds, a tiny pinprick of light, a star.

“A star, Pete,” Tony whispered, because Peter liked stars; he might take it as a sign of hope.

The only answer was Peter’s soft breathing. _Asleep after all_ , Tony smiled.

He stayed awake, watching the star until the clouds hid it from view.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens before the previous one, which is weird, but that was the order in which inspiration happened.
> 
> Also be warned that this chapter contains a panic-attack-like thing (it’s actually Peter’s senses going nuts because he’s been living in an apocalypse for a while, but stay safe)

Peter was jumpy. 

He’d been jumpy ever since everything happened, but it was getting worse. His danger sense, helpful when fighting crime, had been going off practically nonstop for weeks (because even after they escaped the blazing hell of what once was LA, they hadn’t been safe—nowhere was really safe.) Peter said it was like a constant screaming in his head.

Tony had watched him grow more and more fragile as the days went by, startling at everything, startling at nothing, and hardly sleeping. Now he looked constantly on the very edge of a breakdown, and Tony wondered if his sense would eventually adjust or if it was just going to drive him completely insane.

They walked in silence now—it was scary how little Peter spoke anymore—and the only sound was the slight wind and the crunch of the ruined pavement under their feet. Above them, the sky hung low and threatening, the same dull color as the road itself. Both seemed to go on forever without a change in sight.

“Tony.”

Tony must have absorbed some of Peter’s sense, just for a moment, because he whipped around with lightning speed before he even registered the tone or the fact that it was his first name; he only knew with terrifying certainty that something was wrong. Peter stood frozen a few paces away, his eyes huge with fear. Before Tony could ask him what it was, the ground began to shake.

They were out in the open, far away from anything that might fall on them, but Tony rushed forward and dragged Peter into a crouch in what had by now become a practiced motion. The earthquake was small, nothing like what they had felt before, and it was over within a few seconds. More unnerving than anything else, a reminder of how unstable the world had become in such a short amount of time.

“We’re fine,” Tony murmured, moving to help Peter up again, surprised by how tightly the kid clung to the front of his jacket when he started to pull away. “It won’t hurt us out here.”

“Tony.”

There it was again, that dreadful certainty that something was wrong, and the abject terror in Peter’s eyes.

“What is it?”

Peter’s mouth opened and closed, but he didn’t, or couldn’t, make a sound.

“Pete?” Tony looked around, scanning for whatever danger he could be so afraid of, but there was nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway. “Talk to me, what is it?”

Peter’s eyes grew wider, if that was even possible, pleading for help, and then he collapsed, slipped right through Tony’s arms to curl up tightly on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head.

Tony instinctively looked up, convinced something was about to come hurtling down from the sky on their heads, but all he saw were low gray clouds, the same as always. He looked back at Peter, curled up in a tiny, terrified ball like he expected to be attacked from all sides at any second, and it all slid horribly into place.

“Kid?” Tony hesitated to even touch him, in case that just made it worse. “Can you hear me?”

If he could, Peter made no sign.

“It’s...” Tony hesitated again, because he didn’t know what to do, he had no idea how to begin to deal with this. He rubbed Peter’s arm like any wrong move might break him. “It’s okay, Pete. You’re safe.

Peter was incredibly tense, trembling and taking in tiny, gasping breaths, and Tony couldn’t be sure he even heard him.

“It’s your senses isn’t it,” he said, somehow forcing himself to keep a soothing tone when he only felt like panicking himself. “Just got overwhelmed, completely understandable. The world’s a real shitshow right now.”

Tony didn’t truly understand _anything_ about this, but Peter was so small, so helpless, so _scared_ , and he had to do something. He hauled Peter partially upright and bundled him close to his chest while he continued to shake.

“It’s okay, you can hide here, kid.” Tony hugged him tightly, hoping to at least get through to him that he was being protected. “It’s just like a bad panic attack.” He imagined that was what it was like, anyway. “You’ve had those before, and it feels like you’re dying, but then you’re okay.”

At least he hoped Peter would be okay, that this would indeed eventually end. It didn’t show signs of ending anytime soon, however, and it was frightening how unreachable he was.

“It’s just you and me,” said Tony quietly, tucking Peter’s head against his chest. “I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.” He couldn’t really promise that, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do everything in his power to make it true.

He didn’t know how long it went on. Peter shook, his eyes squeezed shut, completely unresponsive to anything Tony said or did. Tony held him and rocked him, and he wished he could make himself bigger or Peter smaller until he could surround him completely, and then he might be able to feel safe.

He certainly tried, wrapping Peter up tightly and leaning over him like this was something he could shield him from, all the while muttering reassurances that they were safe and this would pass. Surely it had to pass soon.

After what felt like ages, Peter shuddered and began to cry, tiny, broken little sobs and whimpers that tore at Tony’s heart. It was still a relief after the silent shaking from before.

“Peter?” Tony asked gently. “You back with me?”

Peter didn’t reply, but he fumbled for the front of Tony’s jacket and clung on.

“You’re okay.” Tony shifted him in his arms to let him lean against him a bit more comfortably. “I know you’re freaked out, but you’re going to be okay. I’ve still got you.”

It seemed a good sign that Peter turned his face against Tony’s shoulder; at least he knew he was there. Tony continued to rock both of them slowly back and forth, running his fingers through Peter’s greasy hair and half-humming comforting words until his sobs died away to sniffles and he slumped weakly against him. His hold on Tony’s jacket never loosened.

“Talk to me, kid?” said Tony hopefully, but Peter made no sound, still curled up like he was trying to hide, and undoubtedly exhausted as well. “That’s alright. I’d be worn out after all that, too.” Tony smoothed a hand over his hair again. “You need to rest, and then you’ll feel better.”

It took some coaxing, but he got Peter to lie down, curled up on his side with his head resting on Tony’s lap. This was what they often did on nights when Peter’s sense made it difficult for him to sleep, and now just like those times, he was tense.

“You just rest. I’ll keep us safe.”

Peter made a tiny, scared little sound, looking on the verge of tears again.

“Shhh, kid.” Tony stroked his hair. “Just close your eyes. I’m right here.”  
  
Peter gripped Tony’s pant leg to be sure of that, but exhaustion took over and he fell asleep quickly, his hold on Tony’s leg loosening and his scared expression smoothing out into something more peaceful. As promised, Tony kept watch over the open road. It must have been about midday, but there wasn’t another soul in sight. To pass the time, he braided and unbraided a small section of Peter’s hair.

It was hours before he so much as stirred again, blinking dazedly in the cloud-smothered afternoon light.

“There he is,” said Tony, leaning over to look at him. “Finally awake?”

“Yeah,” Peter whispered.

“Good to hear your voice again.” Tony almost told him how worried he’d been, but that didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at the moment.

“Something’s really wrong.” Peter brought it up himself, holding on tightly to Tony’s leg again.

“Your senses?”

“They’re going crazy, and I know I freaked out a while ago, and I can’t make it stop.”

“I know.” Tony gripped his arm to steady him, feeling helpless all over again. “Can I hug you?”

Peter clambered upright and into his arms again, this time hugging him back fiercely. “It feels like we’re about to die, but I don’t think we are, but we could, like, I don’t know, I can’t tell anymore. Like maybe we’re fine, or maybe the ground’s about to split open, heck if I know!” 

“Stop that.” Tony hugged him tight. “We’re not going to die, alright? We’re—“

“We’re really not safe, Mr. Stark,” Peter interrupted, climbing closer as he grew more frantic by the second, all over again. “Something’s wrong, something’s really wrong, we’re not safe, we’re not—“  
  
“Listen to me.” Tony gave him a little shake, determined not to let it take over again; he couldn’t watch Peter go through that again. “Everything’s wrong, okay? The whole world’s wrong, that’s what you’re sensing. But you and me, we’re going to New York, remember? We’re going to find May.”

Peter didn’t argue, his arms tight around Tony’s neck, and it seemed a second crisis had been averted, at least for the moment.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure how your senses work, but my guess is they’re just overloaded with,” he gestured vaguely, “all this. I’m willing to bet they’ll chill out here in a while.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked in a small voice, further muffled by Tony’s shoulder.

“They’ve gotta adjust, right? Before, depending on what you were up to, they did, right?”

“I think so? I don’t know, I’m just really freaking out right now.”

“That’s okay.” Tony wished there was something, anything he could do to make it better. “If I tell you that right now, in this moment, we’re safe, or as safe as we can be out here, can you believe me?”

“Maybe. It doesn’t feel like it.”

“That’s why I’m telling you instead, just right now. Nothing bad’s happening to us right now, is it?”

“It could.”

“It’s not.”

Peter nodded against his shoulder, and Tony kissed his temple.

“Good. Right now, we’re okay. And I’ll bet you in a second, we’ll still be okay, and we’ll keep going like that, all the way to New York.”

“Okay,” said Peter, and he didn’t sound like he believed him, but he sounded like he wanted to.

“We’ll get through this, kid.”

Peter didn’t reply to that, but he laid his head on Tony’s shoulder, and some of the tension went out of his body with a little sigh. Tony took that as a good sign.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, or come visit me on tumblr @an-odd-idea
> 
> Please do not print or reproduce this work outside this site


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